


Full Marks

by Jaune_Chat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, But the Winter Soldier isn't, Dry Orgasm, F/M, Fisting, Forced Orgasm, HYDRA Trash Party, Hazing, Multi, No Socially Redeeming Value, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rape/Non-con Elements, STRIKE team is having fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hazing rituals for HYDRA's STRIKE team are not for the weak.  When they tell you you need to fist the Fist of HYDRA, you do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Hydra Trash Party](http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1504.html?thread=1441504#cmt1441504). 
> 
> This story has no socially redeeming value at all. :D

It was sort of a rite of passage for the elite troops. 

"You think you can handle it?" It was a dare, a challenge, and no true member of HYDRA would dare back down in front of the others.

"Your whole fist and wrist, until he comes. And you better make damn sure you have control of him, or he's strong enough to rip it off your elbow."

Rollins always made sure the question came up after one of the newbies has seen the Asset in action. Ask a new member of STRIKE to fist a guy for a hazing ritual, they'd probably do it without question, just like they'd already shot people or handed over intelligence to High Command for the cause. Ask a new member of STRIKE to fist the Asset after they've just watched him murder a few people with no more emotion than when he was screaming through his mind wiping sessions, or drinking down his nutrient sludge, or getting geared up, or running down a witness across an impossible obstacle course of a rooftop to snap his neck, now _that_ separated the men from the boys, and the women from the girls.

Anyone who's made it to STRIKE was better than good, and anyone who's gotten clearance to run support for the Asset was better than that. Which was why they can listen to Rollins, and then look right over at Rumlow with a very serious, _Is he shitting me?_ expression on their faces.

"Fist the Fist of HYDRA." Brock said it with a little bit of a bedroom voice (which he always denied, no matter how often Rollins recorded it).

Rollins had yet to see anyone back down.

The newbie's name was Collins, and after one bullshit check and a round of the usual macho leers from the others, she gave the rest of the guys one death glare and turned her attention to the Asset.

"Strip for inspection," she said, and the rest of the team started sitting down to enjoy the show. The one who made a half-heard crack about Collins getting her hands on him deserved the withering look and her, "If you want Mommy's fist up your ass, you can get in line," with all the embarrassment he deserved. HYDRA believed "diversity training" began and ended at knowing how to keep other people off your back. Collins wouldn't have made it to STRIKE if she couldn't have handled assholes.

The thought made Rollins chuckle to himself as the Asset stripped, oblivious to the byplay.

"On your back, on the floor. Knees up, legs spread wide."

The Asset lay himself out, acres of perfect skin and muscle and metal all on display, breathing as evenly as if he were just waiting for the bus. A few of the guys adjusted themselves, and Rumlow's eyes were nailed to that damn metal arm. The man had some sort of fetish, Rollins was almost sure of it. Rumlow tossed Collins a slightly deflated tube of slick, which she batted out of the air, sending it flying under one of the crates.

"I don't double-dip, sir," she said, and Matthews stifled a guffaw at the little twitch of disappointment that crossed Brock's face. It was his own damn fault for crowing about what he could get the Asset to do during down time. He kept making that sour-lemon face as Collins took a fresh bottle from Johnson, and then doused the Asset's metal hand. The Asset's eyelashes fluttered, and Rollins could see his ass flex in some kind of vague memory of doing this before.

"Use your left hand and stretch open your ass for inspection. Don't move anything but your left hand and arm, and keep me updated on your progress."

Donovan looked pissed as the Asset began delving into his own ass, his stomach moving up and down faster as he went deeper.

"Nice dodge. You gonna get your hands dirty? We've had him fuck himself on game night just as background noise," Donovan said. Warren smacked him in the back of the head.

"You broke your arm doing this, we all know it, so just shut the fuck up about it already." 

Donovan pinked a little and subsided with a few mutters. He hadn't remembered to tell the Asset to go passive during his go at it, and had insisted on doing all the work himself to prove he could. The asset had cracked Donovan's radius with his ass during orgasm. The only reason Donovan didn't get more shit about it was that he'd waited to pull his arm out until after the Asset had completely finished. _Stupid, but tough enough,_ Rumlow had said in his report, and Donovan had earned his stripes.

"Status," Collins snapped out.

"Three inches open, and fully lubricated." The Asset's voice was a little more uneven than his usual monotone, and his eyes had gone from staring at the ceiling to staring at Collins. Rollins caught his breath; this was where things could get tricky. He curled his finger around the outside of his trigger guard and saw the rest of STRIKE doing the same.

"Are you feeling arousal?" Collins asked, her voice cool.

"The stimulation is causing-"

"Are you feeling arousal?" she snapped. "Subjective report."

A sigh spilled from the Asset's lips, and he licked them, making them shine in a way Rollins remembered from certain other party days. "Yes."

"Are you supposed to feel arousal?"

Beautiful confusion crossed the Asset's face, and he flicked his eyes from Collins to his slowly engorging dick and back again.

"I don't know?"

"I will tell you what you need to know," she said, and Rollins could see Rumlow mentally giving her a gold star for paying attention in the Asset Management lecture. He was also probably trying to figure out the best way to disable her in one shot if she decided to use her temporary power over the Asset to take him out so she could advance her career.

The Asset nodded again, breathing going very uneven.

"Remove your left hand from your ass. Place it flat on the floor. Maintain your body position and do not move." Collins slicked up her hand, wrist, and forearm, not the largest the Asset had ever taken, but certainly not the smallest either. She pressed two fingers into the Asset's hole, which accepted them easily. Without further preamble, she folded her thumb to her palm and pushed her whole hand in, making the Asset gasp and his dick stand straight up, a clear bead of pre-come decorating the tip. He was shivering with the need to hold back, head shaking as the Asset didn't know if his hard cock was going to get him punished. And somehow that was making him even harder.

“You're allowed to orgasm. You can't move your body, but you will orgasm as often as you can until I tell you to stop.”

And at that, the Asset looked fucking _terrified_ , because Collins punched slow into his ass with all the power in her arm, shoulder, and hip, and he spurted all over himself, mouth going open and slack.

“Get any on me, and you're licking every drop up with your tongue,” she warned. The Asset stared at her, his eyes huge and grateful and confused and afraid, and came again as she twisted her arm inside him. Collins was down on one knee between the Asset's legs, and if his dick dropped any from its painfully-hard state, he was going to have a very lengthy cleaning session. Her other hand was on her gun, and when the Asset's eyes occasionally flicked to that instead of Collins' face, his dick twitched a little more.

“Ah.” It was a little noise, no more than an outburst of breath, and another spattering of white splashed across the Asset's chest and higher, giving him his own pearl necklace. The Asset had become an unbelievably kinky bastard through everything HYDRA had put him through, or so Rollins had been told by the tech team, but he figured part of that must have been the company. There were more than a few of the guys adjusting their pants rather vigorously.

Collins kept at it with dedication, punching in slow and hard, withdrawing against the Asset's strength, twisting her fist so her knuckles grazed his prostate, and starting again. Every other time the Asset's dick convulsed, the first dozen times covering him with a thick glaze of come, the last six making him twitch in pleasure and agony as his balls tightened and dick twitched, but nothing came out.

“Stop coming,” Collins said, and paused her arm, slowly rotating it in a way Rollins recognized as just pressing relentlessly against the Asset's prostate. He was staring at Collins like he had no idea what was going on, eyes wide and starting to brim with tears as his dick rose to life yet again with agonizing slowness. The other members of STRIKE were torn between impressed and pissed off, and Rollins could see Rumlow starting to lick his lips in a way that meant they were probably going to be late if no one said anything. Rollins coughed slightly, and Rumlow glared at him before looking at Collins.

“Yeah, you pass, Collins.”

“No fucking fair. She beat the record by like seven minutes,” Donovan muttered.

“Not my fault none of you dicks thought to just tell him to give it up,” Collins said without missing a beat, pulling her arm free of the Asset's ass and making him stare at her with lost puppy eyes. “Besides, I didn't want to make it too easy for the next guy.”

Rumlow chuckled at that and tossed Collins a rag to clean her arm off. “Ramirez, you're up next.” The next new guy stood up with a mixture of determination and trepidation on his face as Collins sat down next to Rollins, still wiping off her fingers.

“You just fucked Ramirez's chances, big-time,” Rollins commented quietly as Ramirez pushed his lubed fist inside the Asset to a disheartening (to him) lack of reaction.

“Let's just say I like to leave my mark,” she said, staring down her fellow newbie with an utter lack of compassion.

Rollins smirked and looked over Collin's head at Rumlow, and nodded. 

_Full Marks._

She was going to fit in fine.


End file.
